


Don't Touch, Back Up

by wingsyouburn



Series: Tifa Week 2020 [4]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Drunkenness, F/M, Final Fantasy VII Remake compliant, Language, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24037744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsyouburn/pseuds/wingsyouburn
Summary: Being a bartender sometimes means having to take out the trash.
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart/Rude
Series: Tifa Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1729564
Comments: 8
Kudos: 35





	Don't Touch, Back Up

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Tifa Week 2020 on tumblr, with the prompt: _"Don’t think that I’m not strong. I’m the one to take you on. Don’t underestimate me boy, I’ll make you sorry you were born." - don’t call me baby by madison avenue_

“Tifa! Tifaaaaa!” The drunk man leaned over the bar, the stench of his breath heavy in the air. His words slurred, and his eyes were glassy. “Another round!” 

She wiped down a glass, glancing over her shoulder. “Sorry, Ralphie. You’re cut off.” 

“The hell I am!” He swayed, bracing one hand against the countertop. “You can’t do that.” 

“Yes,” Tifa smiled sweetly, “I can. I’m only thinking of your hangover come morning.” 

Ralphie snorted. “That’s a problem for future me,” he argued. “Come on. One more drink.” 

“No.” 

“Yes.” 

Tifa rolled her eyes. Every night, there was always someone like Ralphie. Usually a man who thought they deserved something more than they could get, whether that was another drink or something from Tifa herself. At first, it used to bother her, this constant onslaught of unfavorable attention. She wasn’t stupid - she dressed the way she did in order to attract these sort of men. Not for her own personal gain, but because it brought customers to Seventh Heaven and it earned her better tips. Plus, she couldn’t lie - it was easy to kick ass in this skirt, too. 

This wasn’t the life she pictured when she finally left Nibelheim, but fate worked in mysterious ways. Tifa was still here, still breathing. And nothing Ralphie said would earn him a second drink. 

“Hey!” Flailing one arm, Ralphie latched onto the opposite side of the bar, using it as leverage to haul himself up. He panted with the effort, sweat beading over his forehead. His knuckles turned white as they gripped the counter. “I was talking to you, bitch! Get me another drink!” 

A fist slammed down on the counter. Tifa hid her surprise, clutching the bar towel as she looked up at the stranger beside Ralphie. 

Rude peered over his sunglasses at the drunkard. “The lady said no,” the Turk said. “Do you need me to reinforce that for you?” 

“I wouldn’t bother,” Tifa said. “I’ve got this, Rude. Sweet of you to check in, though.” 

Ralphie’s fingers dug into the bar counter, grunting. “Stupid bitch - how does she know when I’m done-”

“Because she said so.” Rude’s voice never changed. His entire demeanor screamed not to mess with him, from the suit to the sunglasses to the dry tone he used. 

Yet, Tifa was never afraid of Rude. One learned to deal with Shinra types in the slums because it was one of the hazards of living beneath the plate. The Turks came with that territory, but Rude never overstepped his bounds. It would be different if he were here on business, but this was her bar. In here, Tifa reigned, and Rude was just another customer. 

For the moment, she could ignore who Rude worked for and what Shinra was doing to the planet and the people of Midgar. There were good people within the organization. Most wouldn’t bother to stand up for a bartender the way Rude now was. That earned him points in her book. 

Ignoring Ralphie, Tifa went back to work. “You want something to drink, Rude?” she asked. “Your regular?” 

“If you’re willing to make it,” Rude said. “Otherwise, I can wait.” 

Always so polite. Tifa traded glasses, setting down the clean martini glass and grabbing a pint glass for Rude’s stout. She had one hand on the tap handle when something flickered out of the corner of her eye. 

Ralphie lunged over the bar. His knees caught on the counter, but he could wrap greedy fingers around a bottle of vodka. Rude went to intercept, but Tifa was faster. 

Her spinning kick struck his temple. Ralphie’s eyes lolled back, and he slumped against the counter. 

The vodka bottle slipped from his grasp. Tifa caught it with her foot, then flipped it up into her hand. Luckily it was still capped, and nothing was spilled. Setting it aside, she checked on Ralphie, brushing his hair out of his eyes. Still breathing, pulse steady, just out cold. Better for it to happen here than in some random alley, she supposed. 

Shaking her head, she came around the bar. “Suppose we can just prop him up in a chair until he comes to.” Tifa sighed. “Or wake him with some smelling salts.” 

Before she could do anything, Rude lifted Ralphie up into an inelegant fireman’s carry. Ralphie’s limbs dangled lifelessly. Rude didn’t even look like he was breaking a sweat. “Don’t bother. I’ll see him to the door.” 

She propped both hands on her hips. “Since when have you been our bouncer, huh?” 

One corner of Rude’s mouth twitched, like he was fighting a smile. “Since right now.” 

“I don’t have money to pay you.” But she did like the fact that he offered, and that he was strong enough to just grab a man and throw him out. 

So was Barret. But if Barret acted as their bouncer, then there was definitely a fight beforehand and the bar would be trashed. 

“You still owe me a drink. I think that makes us even.” Rude took a few steps towards the door. “And maybe you’ll save me a seat?” 

She had to admit, she liked the view of Rude from the back. Even with a drunkard hanging off his shoulder, the suit was cut to fit him, and his earrings caught in the light. Tifa bit her bottom lip, looking him over. “I think I can do that.” 

Dealing with the drunks came with her job. She could defend herself, and she’d proven it tonight. Tifa would do it again if she had to. 

But sometimes, it was nice knowing that Rude could help her take out the trash.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "U + Ur Hand" by Pink.


End file.
